


His Captain's Pup

by Xidaer



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Knotting, M/M, Military, Pack Dynamics, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, Sort Of, Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xidaer/pseuds/Xidaer
Summary: JA Secret Santa 2019, Caine/Stinger in the Military with smut.
Relationships: Stinger Apini/Caine Wise
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	His Captain's Pup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vablatsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vablatsky/gifts).



Captain Apini resettled his iridescent wings behind him as he looked down from the Legion’s training center’s balcony onto the new recruits piling in for basic. Splices from all over the galaxy; those bought, bred, and volunteered for Legion duty were mingled together, yet still distinct in how they held themselves. After 20 years in the Legion, Stinger prided himself on running a tight ship of skyjackers. Knowing who to add to his depleted unit started with today’s batch of splices. He’d reviewed their stats and aptitude tests, but preferred getting a feel for their personalities. His skyjackers were not only the best individually, they also had to support each other as a team.

His eyes went to the group of lycantants standing together by one of the flag poles. They were easy to spot at just under 3 meters tall. Beastly splices, with very little finesse, just obvious raw power in their muscles. It was a wonder some Entitled hadn’t snatched them up for an honor guard, but then again, perhaps their overly distended jaws wouldn’t suit such a person’s prissy aesthetics. In any event, he didn’t see the lycantant he was curious about with them. 

Three sharp whistle blows rang out and the new recruits fell in line. This was the moment Stinger had been waiting for; roll call. As each new soldier barked back their reply, he tried to gauge their temperament in those few words. Were there undertones of a sullen nature, rebellious at being cannon fodder? Or an eager one, either because they had a head full of glory or, worse, of legitimized murder? His final decision wasn’t based on this moment alone, but his gut reaction played a large part in who he would keep tabs on for the next 8 weeks.

The roll went on, heat rising up from the concrete, leaving most recruits trying not to shift unduly as they waited for their orders to head to the barracks. Finally, the last name was called.

“WISE, CAINE!” 

A little thrill of heat went through Stinger, that had nothing to do with temperature. This one was pretty, prettier than he had any right to be as a splice supposedly sold to the Legion at a loss. It was obvious that Caine was a runt, standing not even 2 meters tall, lean and pale compared to the lycantants called 10 minutes prior. 

“SIR, YES, SIR” Caine shouted. His shoulders were pulled back proudly, eyes staring unerringly straight. Not cannon fodder this one, that much was certain.

Stinger resolved to watch him.

***

It had been a year since that moment.

Most lycantants died without a pack, just shriveled up and wasted away, or they became like Wise; fearless, relentless - sometimes too much so in Stinger’s opinion. Especially today. 

A swirl of steamy air escaped as the captain entered the unlocked refresher unit. Across from him, facing the wall, was Caine. His well-earned wings were half spread, their plumage dark from the hot water pouring over him. The runt splice had filled out, still short compared to his lycantant brethren but no less powerful. He’d learned to use his strengths to his advantage rather than trying to compete on brute force alone, almost dancing during a fight. Caine was clever and right now, he was smart enough to know that his captain would be seeking him out and would not appreciate a locked door in his way. 

As the lock clicked into place, Caine asked, with a grin in his voice, “Come to congratulate me, Captain?”

“Fucking reckless son of a bitch,” Stinger growled, coming up behind Wise, heedless of soaking his uniform.

“I’ll take that as a no then,” Caine said with a smirk. 

Stinger grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck, skin slick and hot from the shower’s spray, and forced him to his knees. This wasn’t the first time the Captain had to enforce his place as packleader- they both knew and enjoyed this particular dance just as they had taken a fierce joy from punching and dancing their way through the warhammer blockade earlier that day.

Caine looked up from the tile floor, his sharp teeth gleamed in a snarl but he bared his throat in submission all the same. “You know what to do, Wise,” Stinger ordered. 

Caine took down the soaked uniform pants just enough to free Stinger’s already hard dick from its confines. Lowering his hands, he looked up at his commander, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Gaze steady and intense, he swirled his tongue around the head before swallowing the entire length of his captain’s cock in one smooth, practiced motion. Stinger’s head knocked back against the refresher wall as a groan escaped him. This wasn’t just about dominance, he thought as his hands took hold of the younger man’s hair, but fear at losing Caine. Goddammit, Stinger had lost enough soldiers to know no one was truly immortal despite what the Entitled might believe. Caine was still young, still too goddamn rash in a fight. He gripped the lycantant’s short hair tighter. They worked well together, flying in tandem, anticipating each other’s moves without Stinger having to shout every command. Today, though, they’d been just enough out of sync, Caine just enough of a showboat, to almost bring the whole thing crashing down. It had been pure dumb luck that had saved Caine’s ass, and here he was acting as if he deserved credit for it.

Stinger growled and pulled Caine’s face from his dick. “Pup, you scared the shit out of me today. Don’t you ever, ever run off like that during a fight- we fight as a team or not at all. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied automatically, eyes flicking to his captain’s dick rather than locking eyes.

“I said, is that understood, Wise!” he half-shouted, words reverberating from the tiled walls. 

A wince crossed Caine’s features as Stinger nearly ripped his hair out getting his undivided attention. “We fight as a team or not at all, sir!” Caine barked back, gaze now unwaveringly locked on his.

“Right answer, soldier. Now open!” Stinger spared no time for finesse, shoving his way in as soon as Caine began to comply. This was pure packleader dominance. Swift, hard thrusts soon had his pup choking despite months of practice but this was all about getting back in sync, into rhythm with each other. Slowly, Caine became more pliant, breathing around the motions rather than trying to forge his own way. He clasped his hands behind his back as if at parade rest and let his captain guide him. 

A sweet tension began to spiral in the pit of Stinger’s belly. Even though pleasure was secondary to this endeavour, he was still facefucking his devoted pup under the shower’s pounding spray. Tongue and throat and even a bit of teeth just wound him tighter, the end rushing towards him. Then the orgasm hit, a coiled spring snapping free, and he held Caine’s face in place until he swallowed every drop. As his hands released their tight hold and trailed over Caine’s cheeks, Stinger felt a warmth blossom that had nothing to do with sex as his pup nuzzled into the caress.

Catching his breath, he looked down into eyes dark with arousal. Caine’s untouched dick was a throbbing shade of deep purple and nothing would please Stinger more than watching the man take his well-earned reward. “Come on, pup, stand up. I want to see you.” 

Helping him up, they traded places against the wall. Flushed and panting, Caine took hold of himself, stroking with wanton abandon. His eyes locked on Stinger and everything in that look said ‘I’m yours.’

“You’re gorgeous, Wise, just fucking gorgeous,” Stinger said.

With that Caine spilled out over his fist with a groan and a knot began to form at the base of his cock. He whimpered as Stinger traced his fingertips over the engorged overstimulated flesh. “Who calls the shots, Wise?”

“You do, sir,” Caine gasped out.

“Good boy.”

***

“There’s one more thing, Captain,” Lieutenant Klisa said, whiskers twitching as she shared a look with Sergeant Loxin seated next to her. 

Stinger glanced up from the inventory sheet the three of them had just finished going over. Both his lieutenant and sergeant looked cagey, although it was harder to tell on Loxin as snake-splice had fewer tells. “Well?”

“Permission to speak freely?”

Stinger raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t know the next few minutes could make or break his career. “Granted.”

“It’s about Wise-” Klisa began.

“You’re fucking him,” Loxin finished bluntly. Klisa shot the sergeant a dagger of a look. Perhaps she had intended to say it with more tact, but Stinger knew it’s what she would have meant either way.

He heaved a sigh. “And? Is this going to be a problem, Lieutenant?”

Both his subordinates’ fangs made an appearance as they each broke into a grin. “Told you Cap would think he was being sneaky,” Loxin remarked to Klisa.

“Fuck you, Sarg,” she replied good naturedly. “Cap, you just lost me 10 Cs.”

“10 Cs? What-? Are either of you smirking fuckers going to tell me what’s going on?” Stinger said irritation buzzing in his voice. “Are you going to command with this?”

Loxin lost the grin and straightened up. “Captain Apini, the lieutenant and I aren’t here to ask you to stop-”

“Or to turn you in,” Klisa said with distaste. 

“Or that,” the sargeant agreed. “We’re here on behalf of the unit to congratulate you.”

That brought Stinger up short. “The whole unit?”

“Fuck yes, the whole unit,” Loxin confirmed. “You and Wise aren’t exactly the quiet types and it’s pretty fucking obvious that the feelings and consent involved is mutual.”

“Not to mention that it’s gone on long enough to know you’re not going to play favorites,” Klisa added. “So the Sergeant and I just wanted to tell you congratulations, you’re finally less of a hard ass.”

“And to put it mildly,” Loxin finished, “everyone in the unit agrees that Wise is better when you’re on his ass.”

***

The privileges of rank really were shit sometimes, Stinger thought as he stomped the dirty snow slush from his boots. The gods-forsaken ice moon of Candar was ill-equipped, ill-stocked, and just plainly ill-suited to an elite unit of skyjackers, but some Entitled had bought the favor of a general so here they were. Stinger had the privilege of a solo room, practically a closet, that might as well double as a walk-in freezer. “Fucking Entitled bullshit-,” a knock interrupted his muttered rant. “Come in!”

Pushing open the door, Caine stopped short of actually entering the captain’s room. “Captain,” he began, shifting his duffel further up his shoulder, “there’s not enough bunks in the barracks and everyone is already doubling up. I thought, maybe-”

“Get in here, pup,” Stinger ordered. The room felt warmer already.

Caine ducked his head almost shyly, but walked in and put down his bag in the corner. Stinger watched him reshuffling and fluffing his feathers in the cool air until he couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore. He strode forward the two steps separating them and grabbed a double handful of Caine’s shirt front pulling him into a kiss. It was hard and fierce, something unmistakable. Stinger wanted him here; here in his unit, here in his cold room, and most of all, here in his arms. His pup wasn’t imposing or asking for something his packleader wouldn’t give. If that all could be said in a kiss, this was it.

Caine took that permission and ran with it. He started pulling at Stinger’s clothes, nipping at his bottom lip; all the eager enthusiasm Stinger could want. Before long, both of them were naked, skin flushed with arousal and hot despite the moon’s chill air. His pup half-fell, half-pulled them onto the bunk, both barely having the presence of mind to fall on their sides to accommodate their respective feathered and insect-like wings. Caine pulled Stinger close and tucked his head into the crook of his captain’s neck, inhaling deeply. As the last of the nervous tension finally flowed out of the man in his arms, Stinger knew he smelled like home, like pack. 

He carded his fingers through Caine’s hair, letting him drink his fill of his scent, and his hands followed the line of the younger man’s neck over his shoulders to his wings. “Turn over, pup,” he said softly. Without a word, Caine followed the command, belly flush with the bed. Stinger straddled his hips and ran his fingers over the dark gold and bronze laced feathers. A tremble ran through the man beneath him. Wing maintenance droids were, by design, clinical about their duties and Stinger knew the pair of them never had time or privacy to do this before. Hell, given the tremble at the slightest touch, Stinger doubted that his pup had ever felt another living being groom his feathers at all.

He started on the left at the bottom with the long primaries and secondaries, the ones Caine was used to moving, then massaged up into the coverts from wing-tip in towards the shoulder implants. By the time he’d crested the marginal coverts at the top, the bioneural-feedback had Caine groaning into Stinger’s pillow. The young man’s hips started to shift, rocking against the mattress to find some friction. “Stinger, please…” Caine begged.

Stinger didn’t bother to hide a satisfied grin, “Please what, pup?”

“Please fuck me, sir,” came the muffled plea.

“Not yet, Wise, I’m not done,” Stinger said, ignoring his own slowly hardening cock in favor of starting the right wing, realigning and smoothing down each feather. Obscene noises of pleasure echoed through the small room, pillow incapable of drowning them out, but they only drove him to go slower and be more thorough. Caine never stopped rocking into the mattress and made them both moan as the captain’s rock hard cock slipped along his sweaty skin to slot firmly between his ass cheeks. 

“Captain, please!” the lycantant begged again, voice rough with desire.

Stinger ran his palms over the immaculate wings one final time before pulling himself off Caine, both men groaning involuntarily at the loss of contact. “On your knees, pup,” he ordered. “Ass up.” Caine hurried to comply, his prick drooling precum onto already damp sheets, and the captain wasted no time grabbing the lube. Sometimes he wondered if he should go slower with his pup, but the panting wanton wreck was fucking himself back on Stinger’s fingers almost before he’d finished slicking them up-- and still protested even that delay in satisfaction. It was just their way; fight fast and hard, fuck fast and hard. Tonight was probably the longest lead up they’d ever had and Stinger couldn’t wait any longer. 

He sheathed himself in Caine’s tight heat in one rough go. The resounding gratified howl that brought forth made him glad for the room’s extra privacy but that was a fleeting thought at best. The scent of sex permeated the room as Stinger unfurled his wings for extra leverage in his thrusts. He grabbed Caine’s hair and wrenched him back to kiss him, smoothed feathers now pinned between them. Mouth pliant and eager, Caine met him in every way- touching wherever he could and snapping his hips back until the bunk was creaking in protest. Stinger knew they were both too worked up to last long. Reaching around, he began pumping Caine’s cock in time with his thrusts, causing a second orgasmic howl to break forth from the younger man’s throat. The sweet heat clenched down impossibly tighter and the captain followed his bliss two, three thrusts later. 

They basked in each other’s warmth as their breathing slowly calmed. “You’re sleeping in the wet spot, pup,” the captain said with a groan, cock slipping free.

Caine huffed a laugh. “Bastard,” he said without any heat.

“Privileges of rank,” Stinger said with a satisfied grin. “Now come on, Wise, time to bed down.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” his pup said snuggling close.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Belated Christmas Vablatsky! I wish you the very best and hope it's everything you dreamed <3 <3 <3
> 
> Lots of Love!  
> xidaer


End file.
